


The Promised Hours

by Atlana_Thris



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Everyone has adopted the Elrics, F/M, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Edward Elric, Hurt/Comfort, I tried my best but don't trust my medical info, Medical Inaccuracies, POV Alternating, Parental Izumi Curtis, Parental Riza Hawkeye, Parental Roy Mustang, Post-Canon, Post-Promised Day, Recovery, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlana_Thris/pseuds/Atlana_Thris
Summary: They won the fight against Father, however, the day wasn’t over yet. Central City was chaos. Even though everyone came together, there were still plenty of questions that needed to be answered and wounds that needed to be healed.Set after the Promised Day, focusing on the trauma and injuries the people fighting Father obtained. Mostly just some solid hurt/comfort and an excuse for everyone to parent Ed and Al.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Izumi Curtis & Edward Elric, Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang, Sig Curtis & Edward Elric
Comments: 132
Kudos: 566





	1. The Unseen Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my first FMA Brotherhood fic. My sister was bugging me for the past year to watch FMAB and I finally caved. I binged it all in about a week, and… It is the best thing to ever exist. So yeah, I have now gone and read all the fanfictions, so I figured I should contribute too! The story is complete and I will be posting a chapter a week!  
> Note about the story- if there are any medical inaccuracies, I apologize, I tried to do my research, but it is all based on google searches and Grey’s Anatomy lol. If there is any technology they shouldn’t have yet, I’m sorry, I hope it doesn’t distract from the story too much.  
> Dedicating this to my sister for making me watch this and for her birthday!  
> Reviews might make me go faster too, they are my lifeblood after all :P. This is a really trying time for everyone so I hope this fic can at least put a smile on your face and encourage you to be kind to each other out there.

Everything was chaos around him. The yelling and medical jargon being thrown out in all directions was discombobulating. He couldn’t recall the hospital ever being this loud before. Perhaps it was only the case today, with the plethora of injured soldiers all across Central City. Or, much more likely, Roy thought with resignation, the darkness just concentrated his attention onto the overwhelming discord in the hospital. 

Regardless, Roy was sure that he would have gotten lost in the sea of darkness and sound if it wasn’t for the pressure around his wrist anchoring him. Even if he didn’t have his own, he could trust that the sharpest eyes were watching out for both of them.

Still, he was dreading when the doctor decided to move onto the other hand for stitches and bandaging.

“Colonel Mustang, sir? I’m just about finished with your left hand. The stab wounds severed several tendons in your hands. With proper physical therapy and time, I am certain that you can make a full recovery.” The female doctor paused for a moment before clearing her throat, “I mean… Your hands will make a full recovery. Sorry. Erm, can I have his right one now?”

“You don’t need his wrist to sew up his hand. Go ahead.” Hawkeye bluntly explained, shifting his hand to lay flat on his leg. Her grip didn’t loosen at all, and Mustang let out a silent breath he was holding.

“You sure you should be talking while someone is stitching up your neck, Riza?” Breda asked, the smirk evident in his voice.

“Lieutenant Breda, have you checked up on Sergeant Fury yet? Any update on the West gate death count?” Roy cut in, trying to not grind his teeth against the dull pain he could still feel in his hand despite whatever drugs they had given him.

“No, sir, I’ll go find out now. It’s too crowded in this trauma bay anyways. I’ll find you both once they set you up in a room.” Breda stood, calling out as he left, “And I’ll find a few good soldiers who are willing to be a protective detail for both of you as well. Wouldn’t hurt to have them during your stint here at the hospital.” And with his signature grunt, the man faded into the noise of the overcrowded military medical center.

Roy let out a soft sigh, turning his attention to where he assumed his doctor was sitting. “Doctor Mason, do you have a time frame on when you will be able to relocate the Lieutenant and me to a private room? I have no intention of pulling rank. However, I know how severe a cut Lieutenant Hawkeye obtained, and I assume performing stitches out here is not the most sterile.”

“Sorry, Sir,” the woman replied in a frustrated huff, “we are rather backlogged. We are already out of ORs. To make sure we have some ICU rooms available if a pressing patient arrives, we are only admitting stable people into rooms once everyone else is accounted for.

“Fair enough,” Mustang muttered, doing his best to not aggravate the woman currently stabbing a needle into the palm of his hand.

Hawkeye let out a hum next to him. “Colonel, it is hectic in here. From what I can see, it appears as if the staff has already brought more beds down. I have seen interns carrying medical supplies to the waiting rooms. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are handling minor injuries up there. Best not to push anything. It is understandable this hospital is so overrun. Almost all the injured are soldiers, and this is the main military hospital.” There was a brief pause before she continued. “I assume you are redirecting at least a portion of your patients towards the civilian hospitals.” She directed the last statement away from him, probably towards the doctor working on her.

“Yes, Ma’am. Any non-critical patients are being rerouted at this point.”

Roy did his best to keep his mind busy from the tugging pain blossoming in his hand. Once more, he lamented his inability to focus his vision elsewhere. Mustang wanted to scan the room and verify that none of his officers were hurt, or anyone else he knew. His mind wandered to Gracia and Elicia. He hoped that they had remained indoors and didn’t get caught in any of the crossfire.

As he tried to focus his hearing, he realized how hard it was to distinguish people’s voices in the cacophony of shouting going on around them. A few minutes passed as he tried to find a single voice he could focus on. When he finally felt like he had gotten his bearings, there was a sudden flurry of sound and several feet rushing around.

“Hey Jones, I need an extra set of hands. If your patient is stable, then get over here. Otherwise, get me one of your fellows. I need an IV of fluids and probably a nasogastric tube.” A doctor hollered in their general direction. Roy frowned at this as he heard Hawkeye’s doctor sigh.

Roy wanted to remind the doctor that he was working on his First Lieutenant but realized that probably wouldn’t go over well. Still, he was glad when the man called back. “Harrison, I’m stitching up this woman's neck at the moment, I’m a little too busy to be delegating fellows for you. Go get someone else.”

“I need you, Jones! Pediatrics is your specialty; You are the only one in this hospital. Anyone can stitch someone up, but I’m a little out of my element here.” At this, Roy felt a shiver run down his spine.

Dr. Jones cursed, “Shit, a kid... Ma’am, I’m going to have to tape the rest of this for-” but Hawkeye cut him off.

“Go, please. I’m fine.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” He then turned in the direction of the woman stitching his hand. “Dr. Mason, if her blood pressure drops at all, tell them to prep another OR and set up another transfusion.” He then rushed off.

“Hawkeye, there is a kid here? A civilian? Can you see them?”

Riza let out a hiss before replying, “No, I can’t turn my neck far enough to see what is happening over in the immediate trauma bay.”

Roy mentally cursed, wanting to know exactly what was going on when suddenly he realized how distinct voices really could be.

“No! I am staying with him, you quack doctor! If you think, for one fucking second, I’m going to leave him alone with you, you have something else coming for you!” Yelled a voice so stubborn and angry, it could only belong to one golden-eyed kid.

“Edward Elric, calm yourself! You must refrain from violently assaulting these fine doctors.” Major Armstrong reprimanded in his deep voice.

“The hell I will! They made Al bleed!” Roy felt his heart flutter somewhere, everything piecing together in his mind. Of course, there would be a kid brought here. Where else would Ed bring his little brother?

“Young man,” the doctor, Harrison, tried in a placating voice that Roy knew would just irritate Ed, “we needed to set up an IV. Sometimes, patients in this state are anemic, and any wound will bleed substantially. But I will reassure-” The man was cut off by Elric’s rant again.

"Then what the hell are you stabbing him for if you know he is going to bleed so much? You made him pass out, you asshole!” The hand on his wrist tightened. Roy had to shake his head slightly to try and get the picture of the suit of armor out of his mind. Unfortunately, he still didn’t have a good reference to replace the kid with. He recalled an old photo of a young nine-year-old with short blonde hair, only a shade darker than Fullmetal’s, and large green-gold eyes. 

Still, according to Riza, that wasn’t right either. She had described him as a skeleton with skin and hair longer than Edward’s when she had tugged off his jacket to give it to the boy. He would be what, fifteen, now? He probably looked completely different from Ed’s old photo.

And passing out? That couldn’t be good. What else could be wrong now? It could be anything. After all, what did any of them know about returning from the other side of the gateway?

“Dr. Harrison, BP is dropping, and I’m going to insist we run a kidney check after setting him up in the ICU. His body is too weak and will potentially contract some illness from proximity down here. Come on, let’s get him out of here now.” Jones called, not seeming to hear Edward.

Fullmetal seemed to react rather poorly to that. “Wait, no! I need to stay with him. I need to be there when he wakes up! He will freak out if he wakes up and doesn’t know where he is.” This time, the panic was cutting through the anger in Fullmetal’s voice. That was the sound that always made Mustang cave. It had helped get the little brother into private meetings and resulted in countless late nights for Roy, spent searching for some lead for those boys.

Thus, he wasn’t surprised to hear one of the doctors sigh and lean over. “Look, kid, we will come to get you once your brother is stable, alright? As long as you are careful, we will be able to let you in with him. You look exhausted, let us take care of him for a moment.” And then Roy felt a rush of air as a group of people rushed past them, towards the elevator.

Hawkeye must have leaned over because she muttered into his ear, “I got a glance at him when he was rushed by. He looks the same as before, malnourished and weak. Hopefully it isn’t anything more critical than that.” Roy closed his eyes in relief, not even realizing he had opened them. Thank goodness. He couldn’t imagine if something happened to Alphonse now.

“Right…” He paused before continuing, not sure who could be listening. He decided it probably didn’t matter at this point. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if his immune system is somewhat compromised after so long without any exposure to pathogens. Where is Edward?”

Riza tried to turn to get him an answer, ignoring the scolding his doctor gave her. “Coming this way, Colonel.”

Sure enough, once she pointed it out, he was able to distinguish the uneven footsteps of Fullmetal’s automail.

“Come on, Major, if you don’t think I’m going to wait right here for them then… then you clearly don’t know me.” Elric was rambling, no longer shouting.

“Let me escort you to the waiting room. That is where the doctors will be looking for you, young Elric.” The two state-alchemists weren’t more than a few meters away from the sound of it. It must have been a testament towards how crowded it was that they hadn’t noticed them yet.

“Edward Elric?” The major repeated, as if trying to get his attention. Concern shot up once more in Mustang at Ed’s silence. The kid rarely ever stayed quiet.

In a sound that barely surpassed a whisper, Edward groaned. Then, in a shaky breath, he mumbled, “I… I think I need to sit…down.”

Suddenly there was a crashing sound, and Roy found himself throwing his feet to the ground. The doctor who had moved to inspect his ribs vanished at the same time as Major Armstrong called out for assistance.

“Riza, what is going on?”

“Edward collapsed, but Armstrong caught him before he could hit his head or anything. Sit down, Sir, there is nothing you can do.” Earnestly, he hadn’t noticed he was on his feet. And now, he sheepishly realized, he didn’t know where the bed was. 

Evidently, his moment of hesitation was enough for Hawkeye to understand and to tug on his wrist, pulling him over to the bed. As he let himself drop onto the bed, feeling utterly useless, he realized he was now sitting next to his Lieutenant. Even so, she did not release his wrist from her vice grip. A flush crept up his neck, but he shook off the feeling. He was grateful for the security.

“Edward, that is his name right? Okay, hey, are you with me?” A doctor was asking while snapping her fingers. There was a groan before Ed’s shaky voice replied.

“Wh…what happened?” Roy let out a breath he was holding.

“You collapsed; can you tell me what day it is?”

“The Promised Day.”

The doctor must have expressed concern over this because Hawkeye cut in, “No, that is the right answer, more or less.”

“Oh, right, can you tell me where you are?”

“Huh? Oh, um, the hospital, right?”

“His pupil reaction is a little sluggish, he probably has a mild concussion.” Another voice added in. “Do you have any other injuries, kid?”

Riza cut in again, probably to some bewildered stares, “His left arm was impaled by a steel rod, and the other one is probably as weak as his brother.”

“What, okay, shoot, we shouldn’t even be surprised anymore. Mason, unwrap that field bandage, I want confirmation that it is clean and check if it needs stitches, I’ll check his… Oh my God. Is this shrapnel in his shoulder?” There was a collective gasp from the people who gathered around Edward at this point.

Ed piped up, “No, it’s automail,” probably failing to convince anyone that he wasn’t concussed with an answer like that, “but, I… think I pulled something in my stomach. It was supposed to be healing, but I m…may have overdone it a lit-little today.”

What, Roy thought, trying to recall any injury Fullmetal might be referring to before he remembered that he hadn’t seen the kid for the better half of a year.

Roy felt Hawkeye stiffen next to him, cursing under her breath. He wondered how bad it could be, after all, the kid didn’t complain about anything in between all the fights they had. Still, he was left cursing his new disability once again as he hears one of the doctors take in a sharp gasp.

“How old is this injury? Did you get proper treatment for it? Hey, let’s get a bed for this kid, I want to at least run an ultrasound if everything else is back up. We need to see if there is any significant bleeding in his stomach or small intestines. Kid, hey, are you paying attention, I need an answer.”

Roy was starting to feel real panic set in at this point when the doctors began listing their concerns. Internal bleeding was always dangerous. Shit, what kind of trouble did his subordinate get himself into over the past few months? 

Ed’s response was a little delayed as he let out a gasp of pain, further building Roy’s concern. He was about to order Hawkeye to tell him exactly what was going on when Ed’s pained response was given.

“Um, over five months ago, some scaffolding or something… couldn’t go to a hospital ’cause he wanted me dead. Erm, but my friends found a doctor who held us up for about two months.” Ed panted, as if out of breath, but Roy was nearly tuned out. A five-month-old injury that was still bad enough to cause Ed pain? Edward mentioned someone specifically wanting him dead, who the hell was he referring to?

“Damn, then this doesn’t look that bad then considering. Still, I want antibiotics for the kid’s arm and some decent painkillers- he definitely pulled something in his stomach. Might even have a tear in his stomach lining.” Someone was scurrying off as the doctor continued, “You, Major, mind placing him on the bed for us, thank you. And Anton, can you find our neurologist and tell them that when she is free, we have a kid with shrapnel in his shoulder. We need to know how to proceed without neurological damage.”

“Wait, no, no painkillers!” Ed spoke up sharply, “No, they make me sleepy an-and I need to be there for Al… when he wakes up…”

“Sorry kid, non-negotiable, unfortunately. You really need- hey, woah!” There was the sound of a struggle breaking out as Edward fought against the doctor. Armstrong tried to interject, but his slightly teary words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Roy was contemplating how best to pull rank on a subordinate who was going to be resigning soon anyways when another voice cut in.

“Allow me.” A deep feminine voice announced, and Roy immediately recognized it as the woman from the tunnels. Her voice would be forever engraved in his mind, associated with those first few pounding minutes of darkness. He had been told she was part of the plan but couldn’t recall what the lady actually looked like. He wished he could though, he wanted to be able to see the face of the woman Ed respects enough to call ma’am and teacher.

“Edward, listen to me.” Izumi Curtis firmly ordered. The struggling seemed to end. “This is not up for debate, don’t fight it.” The kid made a sound of protest, but it seemed subdued.

“But… Teacher I- but Al.”

“Al is in good hands. He will be fine.”

“But … the only time Al passed out in the past years was when his soul was pulled from his body. He’ll panic if I’m not there. I don’t… I don’t want him to be alone.” Ed’s voice was pleading, a desperate sound that Mustang found so foreign coming from Ed.

The trauma center was still loud, and if Roy wasn’t listening carefully, he would have missed Izumi’s soft reply, her voice just above a whisper.

“My darling little idiot, of course you are worried about that. It won’t happen, Ed, I promise. Al won’t ever be alone.”

Ed was quick to reply, the desperation and confusion still evident in his voice, “But… wait, what?”

“Sig and I will be right there until we can force these doctors into letting you be with him.”

There was a pause, Ed’s tone coming out a little more hesitantly, “You and Sig will both be there for him?” And Roy’s heart shattered. His thoughts swarmed with a lonely childhood and the longing for the comfort of a parent. He could hear that desire etched into Edward’s voice, not even for himself, but for his brother. 

“One of us will be there, but not both.”

“Oh.” Ed sounded crestfallen. Roy figured this should be a testament to how poor the kid was feeling if he was so blatantly wearing his emotions on his sleeve. 

A soft chuckle, “Idiot,” She said in a way only a parent could, “if we were both with Al, then there wouldn’t be anyone with you.”

“I don’t…” Ed started to deny.

“You aren’t on your own, Edward. Don’t act like you need to do it all by yourself. Now give the doctor your arm.” Mrs. Curtis demanded.

For a moment, Roy thought the kid was going to try and argue, but then he heard the cheeky little bastard mutter through a smirk, “Which one?”

Edward let out a gasp, assumedly from the needle before he began a slurred rant at his teacher.

“Make sure that he is okay, like... don’t yell at him too much. He doesn’t look great yet, and I don’t think he could take you in a fight right now, even though he was always better matched against you than me. And tell him that I want to be there, and I will be as soon as these damn doctors let me… and…” His words slowly faded into muddled gargle as he passed out. Roy heard a few of the doctors start to wheel the bed off like before.

“You, military doctor,” All softness had faded from her voice, “You aren’t going to turn me into a liar, are you?”

“Um, I can’t let you visit minors in the ICU unless it is approved by their primary care-dependent.” One of the two doctors replied a little hesitantly.

“Why you-” Izumi started.

Roy quickly interjected, “There will be no need for that. I am the Elrics’ superior officer and their documented emergency contact. As such, in a state of emergence, if I am unable to perform my responsibilities, I am obligated to pass these duties to another, correct?” He figured it wasn’t exactly worth mentioning that Alphonse wasn’t actually his subordinate. It dawned on him that he had never needed to think about the kid needing medical before.

There was a pause before the other doctor replied in a not so certain tone, “I guess so, sir.”

“Wonderful, then I, Colonel Roy Mustang,” putting extra emphasis on his rank, “give full permissions to Mrs. Curtis and her husband. I expect her to account for the Elrics for me while I am indisposed.” Roy finished, nodding his head in the direction he hoped the woman was in.

There was a pause before she let out a soft sigh, and the doctors relented. They began to wheel Ed off again, but Izumi hesitated before following. 

In his direction, she softly added, “Thank you for looking after my boys.” Mustang swallowed something in his throat, nodding, and ignoring the stinging in his eyes.

The woman proceeded to stalk off after the bed that was rolling away. He could still hear her explaining to the doctor exactly how she expected to be informed, followed by various other threats.

“Thank you…” Hawkeye breathed out, causing Roy to furrow his brow.

“What for?”

He felt her other hand grip his shoulder, followed by the weight of her head leaning against it. “Making sure they weren’t alone. I know you couldn’t see, but it looked bad.”

Mustang wanted to press for more, demand more details, but the words wouldn’t pass his lips. Instead, he asked, “Do you think he will be alright?”

With her current position, he was able to feel her nod against him. “Yes. Of course he will be. It's Ed.” She stated as if that explained everything. And maybe it did. After a momentary pause, she added, “It mostly looked like a scar, but it was ghastly and large. The remnants of his automail in his shoulder is probably a more pressing concern - that looked mildly inflamed.”

Roy let out a sigh. “It was hard enough keeping an eye on my subordinates before, but now I can’t even see what is hurting them.” He wished he could see Edward, figure out what had happened several months ago, and verify that he would heal from today’s injuries. It was a surreal feeling, thinking that he would never see Alphonse’s flesh and blood face. 

It also dawned on him as he sat next to Riza, he wouldn’t ever see those auburn eyes again. He found himself spending the next few minutes trying to sear them into his memory. It was hard to remember them on a typical day; instead, he could only recall the soulful stare being given to him, framed by her pale skin and blood.

“Sorry Sir.”

“It's not your fault, Lieutenant.”

“No,” Hawkeye clarified, “I’m sorry I haven’t been giving you the details you need to read the situation. Give me time to adjust.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Mustang’s mouth. “So, what, you offering to be my eyes then, Lietantent?”

“I always have been, Sir. Always will be.”


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few hours pass, giving time for the dust to settle and giving everyone time to check on those they love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys!!! I am blown away! Thank you everyone who left a comment or a kudo, I never expected to get such a high reception on this story! I have been going back and adding a few scenes now since y'all have motivated me with all your kind words. I'm so glad so many of you love these kiddos too! <3<3  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter - this one is dedicated to my other sister because she finally agreed to watch FMAB with us!!  
> Please enjoy guys! I love feedback, positive or constructive! Sorry if any of the medical stuff is wrong, suspension of disbelief :P

* * *

“Well, Sir, finding people to guard your door won’t be an issue.” Breda announced, rapping on the door. “People are practically lining up for the job. A Sergeant Denny Brosh is currently on duty... Erm, He explicitly told me to inform you that he formally apologizes for hating you.” A hint of mirth was evident in his voice.

Mustang furrowed his brow slightly, and Fuery let out a short laugh and turned to the Colonel, “You have no idea who he is, do you?”

Quirking his lips, Roy shook his head and heard Breda snort in response. “I’ll tell him you said no hard feelings.”

“Well,it's not a lie.” Roy leaned back against the elevated bed, as Fuery briefly informed him that Brosh was one of Major Armstrong’s men. That made sense, with the whole Maria Ross incident, he had received more than a few cold stares whenever he walked into Major Armstrong’s office.

“Yeah, and him and Second L-”

Fuery got cut off as someone pulled open the door, calling in, “They are airing Mustang’s statement now on Radio Capital.”

“Oh good,” Roy commented, “I do hope that is the right play. I can already hear General Armstrong’s annoyance that I am playing the politics. When can we expect her to take her bears back North?”

Hawkeye chimed in from her bed. “Based on the call I received from Major Miles, a squadron is heading back up tomorrow to bury Captain Buccaneer up North. The Brass offered the military cemetery in central, but they rejected it. The rest of her forces will remain here until the investigation into all matters of security are concluded.”

He nodded, rubbing his chin, “Where even is General Armstrong? I heard she was injured. Was she admitted? I heard Major Armstrong earlier...” His question was met with silence. Eventually, he scoffed and shook his head.

“Ah right stupid question, forget that, who else is there we need to check up on?”

Fuery piped up, “I heard from one of the Brigg’s soldiers that Falman is alright, he aided in the fight to secure the main gate. It might be hard to get him to come back to your command after his time in Briggs. I think they are planning on giving him another promotion. I tried to pass on the word on where you are, so hopefully, he will stop by once he gets a chance.”

Roy closes his eyes, a sense of relief washing over him. Despite their best efforts, no one was able to take his men. Even when flung to the far edges of the country, cut off from him and each other, his men were able to look after themselves.

Another one of his subordinates cropped up in his mind. “Hey Breda, could you go get an update on Fullmetal for me? Find out if he was admitted or not. Hawkeye and I heard him pass out about an hour ago. See if that was just exhaustion or actually something to worry about.”

“You got it, Sir.” He heard the heavy man rise.

“And make sure you tell the doctors to do whatever they need to for Alphonse. And if Edward is admitted, get them an adjoined room. Drop my rank if you have to. If you get any grief, send them to me.”

Breda scoffed, “If Edward is awake, I’ll tell the big guy you’re worried about him.”

Rolling his eyes, Mustang called back, “And if you meet anyone named Curtis, tell them where my room is just in case they need anything.”

Once Breda had left, he rounded on where he last heard Fuery. “I need you to go to my office, assuming it is still standing, and bring me any of my books and notes on Ishval. We have work to do.”

* * *

Edward found himself drowsily waking up. Everything was bleary, and his shoulder throbbed. Perhaps that was a blessing, he thought dully when he shifted and sharp pain flooded his body. Trying to focus on his shoulder seemed to cloud out the rest of the pain, but even that turned out to be problematic. His head felt out of sorts, pounding in time with his heartbeat. His senses felt foggy. As he blinked, his vision refused to focus on anything and his ears were ringing faintly. What had happened?

He lifted his hands up to rub his eyes, and his automail protested fervently, shooting pain up his shoulder from what felt like spasming muscles. Winry was going to kill him, he thought as he blinked and tried to see what was wrong with it. Instantly, as his eyes found purchase on the skin of his right hand, everything came rushing back to him.

His mind immediately went to Al, a second passing before he switched from looking for a suit of armor to his fragile little brother. That alone was enough to make his eyes water, but the lack of another bed in the room made it worse. He had no idea where Al was or, frankly, where _he_ was.

“Relax, Edward.” A deep voice came from beside him, a large hand pressing against his left shoulder, keeping him from trying to sit up. Suddenly, a wave of nausea overcame him, and he gasped for a moment, trying to get his vision to stop violently spinning.

Right, he recalled someone saying he had a concussion. Not that he could place where or when but still...

“Where is Al?” His voice came out in a desperate croak as his blurry vision landed on the massive figure he had previously missed. It only took a moment for him to realize it was Sig stationed by his bedside.

“Probably somewhere down the hall, Izumi is with him now. And no, you can’t go.” He spoke over Ed when he tried to squirm out from under the large man’s grip. Any protest was cut off by a sudden blazing pain in his shoulder.

Edward let out a hiss, bringing his left hand up to clutch the shoulder, only to find it loosely bandaged and an IV stuck in his less injured hand. As he furrowed his brow, Sig explained what was wrong.

“Your shoulder still has pieces of the automail port embedded in it. Once the critical patients are treated, and your blood transfusion is finished, the military doctors here will take you into surgery to remove the metal.” Ed looked at the wrappings around his shoulder with disdain, more acutely aware of painful metal.

Sig continued, still not removing his hand, “What else...You are on antibiotics since they are worried about infection from that iron support rod Izumi said you got jammed in your arm. You also have a concussion and plenty of other minor injuries. Most importantly though, you aren’t supposed to sit up for two days if you want to avoid another surgery.”

Ed tried to process this, not convinced that it was any reason to stay laid up for two full days. Especially considering that Al was just down the hall. An alive, _breathing_ , Al.

“Let me up, Sig, please. I won’t do anything, but go find Al.” He pleaded, knowing that Sig always caved when he shed his dignity enough to beg like this.

“No,” Sig responded sternly, much to Ed’s dismay.

“What? Come on! Please, Sig, I’m fine. Seriously!” Once more, he tried to break free from Sig’s grasp on his shoulder. But the soreness in his muscles had set in, and his right arm was all but useless. Sig, on the other hand, seemed somewhat unscathed by the fight.

He gave one more jerk to the side, in a final desperate attempt to break free, causing red hot agony to erupted in his abdomen. His vision went white, and everything but the intense pain in his stomach faded.

He lost focus on what was going on for a moment outside of the pain, a lot of loud noises clouding his senses. Something cool pressed against his stomach, and he dared not flinch away from it out of fear of bringing back the ache that was starting to ebb away.

The pain gradually dulled into a slow throb. When he dared to open his eyes a sliver, he couldn’t see past the doctor leaning over him. What he did notice was Sig’s large hand wrapped around his. Ed couldn’t recollect him ever doing that before. Damn, he began to worry that maybe he really wasn’t okay.

A few more moments passed before the agony faded enough for him to comprehend the people talking over him.

“I think it is alright. We really want to avoid an additional operation for Major Elric unless we absolutely have to. It doesn’t look like he made it any worse, but he really must remain still for a few days to give his stomach the best chance to heal on its own. Otherwise, the internal bleeding will get worse and we wouldn’t have a choice. He has enough scar tissue down here as is, if we have to go in to stitch it up, he is even more likely to develop adhesions.” Shit, Ed thought, not entirely sure what they were talking about, but it sounded serious. It was vaguely reminiscent of what he remembered the doctors talking about up north. But their treatment seemed different; After Baschool they were insistent that he kept moving to avoid adhesions, not staying still. This made no sense.

Suddenly, he recalled falling in the trauma bay. Not fainting, he didn’t faint. His old impalement wound hurt and felt off. Then his vision faded. Next thing he knew, he woke up in Armstrong’s arms, and Izumi was promising to watch Al for him. Everything else was a blur. Shoot, how long had it been since then?

“Edward, are you awake?” The doctor asked him, and Ed fought to not yell at the man for talking to him like he was a child. Instead, he nodded, knowing he wouldn’t get any answers if he gave this guy lip.

The doctor nodded, pulling whatever cold thing was pressed against his stomach away. “Good, now I need you to listen to me. It is vital you stay still and don’t move your torso. Part of your stomach has torn above the scarred tissue.” Ed immediately felt queasy, imagining his stomach acid leaking into the rest of his body.

Pressing on, the doctor attempted to quench his fear, “I know that sounds bad, but don’t worry. We don’t believe it is severe yet. However, if it doesn't start healing on its own or it gets worse, we will have to invasively go in and close it up. With all the damage already done to your lower abdomen, we would much rather avoid that. We have you on special medication, which should help. However, the more you move, the more you will pull on the tear. Also, anything that pulls on your stomach muscles like coughing and vomiting could make it worse. So very seriously, I need to ask you to lay still, alright?” Edward swallowed around his cottonmouth, overly conscious of the fact that his saliva was going to his stomach.

Carefully, he nodded, a little unnerved. He regretted that movement when everything started spinning again. His heart sank when he realized this meant he wouldn’t be able to see Al for however long they wanted to keep him vertical. If he was this bad off, he could only wonder how horrible Al’s malnourished and brittle body was doing. Not to mention how scared he probably was.

“Alright, now I know you are taking this seriously. I need to go. We still have plenty of people who need stitches down in the trauma bay, and we only have so many doctors.” The man nodded before turning and taking off out of the small room.

With just him and Sig in the room, it took Ed a moment to find his words. He hadn’t ever panicked about injuries before. Well, not until he woke up in some tiny brown room up north, burning with fever and pain. He didn’t even know anyone - that was probably the most frightening part. It was disturbing enough to wake up without Alphonse seated nearby. Even the two chimera soldiers who brought him to the doctors were strangers. Though he would deny it until his dying breath, he was grateful for Sig’s grounding hand on his.

“How long was I…” he trailed off, not sure how to ask.

Sig looked down at him, his expression a soft neutral. “You boys arrived here about four hours ago. It is late afternoon at this point.”

“Oh,” Ed remarked unintelligently, unsure what else to say. Until now, he was worried days had passed since he had last seen Al.

“Teacher is with Al? I think I remember her saying something about that when we got here.” He tried to not sound accusatory, but the worry was clearly dripping through each word. It sounded very childish to his own ears.

“Last I heard, yes. Al’s doctors are probably still running some tests, so he might not be settled in a room yet, but Izumi will be there the whole time. From the updates I have been given, she believes he probably won’t wake up for a few days anyways.”

Ed felt guilty again as Sig kept talking. After all those nights when Al kept watch over him, Ed couldn’t even repay the favor once. He had been so ready to be sitting there, holding Al’s skinny little hand when he woke up. Of course Alphonse would forgive him, but Edward had dreamed about being able to fuss over his brother. Not that he would admit it.

And now he was dragging Izumi and Sig into this. Teacher's health was subpar on a good day. After everything that happened yesterday, she should be resting, not doing his job for him. He felt immensely guilty, and yet, a swirl of gratefulness was building in his gut.

Sig continued on, unaware of Ed’s internal turmoil, “So don’t expect to be moved from here for another few hours. They want an immaculately clean room for Al as well, so they might want you to wear a mask for the first twenty-four hours.” Edward blinked at Sig, his neurons not drawing any connection between Sig’s words and their implication.

“What?”

Sig let out a scoff, “We know you. The only way to get you to stay down is if we get your brother within eyeshot.”

Ed felt his eyes watering up, tears threatening to leak out for the second time today. He didn’t even care. He was so relieved. He didn’t care if he was laid up for the rest of the year so long as he could keep an eye on Al.

Choking on his words, he muttered a thank you as something hot ran down his cheek.

A big hand came down and patted his head. “Apparently it is Colonel Mustang you have to thank for that. Special favors only happen here when someone like him pulls rank. You two seem to have made some friends in the military after all.”

Still not sure what to say, he just winced as something flared in his shoulder.

“Get some sleep, brat, I’m sure you will wake up when they are going to move you.”

“I’m only crying ’cause of the meds,” Edward muttered, making a last-ditch effort to save some of his dignity.

“Sure kid.”

* * *

His hair tickled his cheek, waking him from his light slumber. He could have sworn he had just closed his eyes when talking to Sig. Edward felt the bed moving, but he kept his eyes pressed shut, the darkness swirling unforgivingly behind his eyes. Already feeling light-headed and nauseous, he didn’t tempt fate by opening his eyes. If he wasn’t supposed to sit up, Ed didn’t want to know what he was supposed to do if he had to puke. Instead, he tried to give his brain a moment to right itself. There were whispered voices around him, but Ed’s ears were ringing less than before so he could piece together most of what they were saying.

“Our ICU policy is one guest at a time, so technically we are already breaking the regulation by bringing him in there and letting one of you stay. I know, I know the Colonel is telling us to do it. Still, really, with all the machines we need to have his brother connected to for the next few days, there really isn’t enough room for both of them, both of you, and doctors and nurses.”

“That is alright, my wife is the one who would fight you on this. I understand. As long as the boys aren’t alone, I’m alright.” Ed recognized Sig’s bassy voice.

“Well, I won’t worry too much about that, from what I can tell, there seems to be a lot of people pulling for these two. One of my nurses has already been pestered by Colonel Mustang’s men three times in the last six hours.”

Ed felt Sig’s hand on his shoulder. “They have done enough by themselves.”

“Alright Sir,” the doctor said, “This is as far as you can go for now.”

The hand gently squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid, Edward.” And Ed was left with the rising suspicion that Sig knew he was awake. Still, his hand fell away.

“Where are the phones? I need to make a call.” Sig asked, his voice quickly growing fainter.

The bed came to a careful stop, for which his spinning head was sorely grateful. As he squinted open his eyes, he realized they were opening a door before continuing to push him. Instantly he clamped his eyes shut, the growing nausea coming back with a vengeance. A groan escaped his lips.

Once again, the bed halted, and he felt a pair of gloved hands land on his good arm. Well, apart from the gaping hole in it, it was his good arm. “You awake, kid?”

He let out another sound in acknowledgment, smartly not nodding his head.

“Does something feel wrong?”

Ed felt dumb complaining about anything. He had dealt with much worse; Automail surgery lost him days leaning over a bin vomiting. However, he didn’t want a repeat of the northern hospital, so he rasped out, “Nauseous.”

Someone cussed behind him, yet the doctor in front of him seemed put together, “Okay, can you tell if it is from your head or your stomach. Is it motion, or does your stomach feel unsettled.”

“Motion.” He muttered, knowing he should feel utterly humiliated being talked to like this. Still, he really couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Good, okay, we are almost there, so keep your eyes closed, and we will pause for a moment. Did you get sick at all after you hit your head?”

“Yeah,” Ed grunted out, remembering when he stepped away from a passed-out Alphonse to empty his stomach. He really couldn’t tell if that was from hitting his head or just pure stress.

“Okay, could have contributed to this tear if the stomach lining was already strained. Regardless, we really want to avoid that again.” Next came a pause, and someone muttered something about a mask.

There was a brush of movement, and he felt something covering his face being removed. “I would rather be at a higher risk of infection than have him puking into this. He is too out of it to remove it himself if he is going to puck. Anyway, his brother is on an oxygen mask for a few days. We will set the beds up six feet apart.” Ed was mildly confused with what was going on but tried not to fight it.

“Kid, once you feel okay, squeeze my hand, and we will start moving. If you are nauseous again, let me know, and we will stop. Got it?”

That tone stung his dignity a bit more, and he immediately tightened his grip on the man’s hand. They started moving, and he focused on his breathing. He just wanted to get there. They were taking him to Al, and if he could only force himself not to throw up, he could see his little brother. He could do that. He could do that.

His mantra was about to fail him when he heard another door open, and a soft, familiar female voice asked, “Is he awake?”

“I think so, but he is feeling nauseous, so he needs to fall back asleep. His concussion isn’t severe, so it should pass in a day or two at most, but vomiting would put significant strain on his stomach muscles. It’s best to avoid it.” Finally, the bed rolled to a blissful stop, and he heard a clicking noise.

Keeping his eyes closed, he felt himself slipping off again as Izumi whispered to the doctors. He decided that seeing Al would be worth whatever the risk of retching was, so he cracked open an eye in the direction of a faint beeping sound.

He couldn’t see much past the machine blocking his brother’s face, but he could make out a few long strands of blond hair and the slow rise and fall of Alphonse’s chest.

Somehow, the slight spinning in his vision didn’t bother him anymore. The pinching pain in his shoulder was a distant memory as a warm feeling spread across his whole body. Everything would be okay now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit might start to hit the fan next chapter... :P stay tuned for next week!


	3. Crimson Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first sunrise after the promised day has arrived. Unfortunately, new dawns don't always mean recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My new friends, I don't even have the words. Everyone liking, commenting, and reading this story, makes me so ecstatically happy. I love hearing your guy's thoughts in the comments and also hearing about your adventures in watching FMAB recently or with friends for the first time. It is hard to feel connected right now during quarantine but you guys really have made me feel valued and involved.  
> Thus, this chapter is dedicated to you guys <3<3 I stopped watching Critical Role live tonight to come and edit this chapter so it will be ready to be posted on Friday.  
> (If you don't know what Critical Role is, check it out - it is a DnD show with Mustang's and Lust's voice actors in it)
> 
> * * *

Hawkeye was sitting up in bed, a stack of paperwork on her lap. She was doing everything but signing Mustang’s name at the bottom of the documents. If this was a responsibility she had to take on now, she wouldn’t complain. In the future, she thought wearily, she would at least make him listen to her explanation of the reports before filling them out. He wasn’t going to make her complicit in his effort to slack off.

It was the morning after the promised day; She was mildly surprised they lived to see it. Breda had gone with Mustang to a briefing, leaving Hawkeye with a sleeping Fuery. The injuries she had sustained would keep her here for at least another few days, not that that bothered her. Even if she wasn’t required, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

After all the years and all the horrors they had seen together, Riza still found herself slightly shaken by the experience of yesterday. Ever since she joined the military, she had seen and done things that would haunt her for the rest of her life. That being said, nothing, except perhaps her confrontation with the homunculus Lust, had pulled on her heart the way seeing Roy deconstructed had. Worse, of course, was not knowing if he was alright.

The instant he disappeared, her mind flickered to Ed’s automail limbs, twisting her stomach in fear. Then her heart sank and breathing became dizzyingly hard when she thought of Alphonse’s metal armor.

All she could do was wait, repeating to herself that whatever was taken, they would replace. They had survived worse. No matter what happened, they always picked up their broken pieces and stitched each other back together. This was no different. As long as she found Mustang alive, it would be fine. Plenty of people have automail with no issues.

This sentiment was shattered when Roy did come back to her, still drawing breath but staring at her through milky eyes. Out of everything, she knew she couldn’t replace that. But they were soldiers on a battlefield, and they still had a job to do. It wasn't the time.

Now though, after they had time to process, she was frustrated. She wouldn’t show it, but the injustice was boiling under her skin. Roy had made the right choice, despite the scream that will disrupt her dreams and his pleading, desperate eyes. He had been willing to sacrifice his queen to win the game. And yet, their opposition just flipped over the chessboard and took her Colonel anyways.

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. The ink blotch she had pressed into the page practically ruined the document, but she knew no one would care at a time like this.

Footsteps in the hallway made her think that perhaps Breda was coming back with Mustang. However, the booming voice proved her wrong.

“Zampano! What the hell are you doing here?” She recognized the voice, though it was not as distorted, as the gorilla chimera from the tunnels. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Darius. You aren’t hurt, are you?” Came another voice, she vaguely recalled.

“Nah, and I wouldn’t come here if that was the case. Getting caught by the military is the last thing I want.”

“So true.” And Hawkeye was able to place the man. He was one of the other chimeras, the grey one with quills.

“Heinkel and I wanted to see if we could find the Elrics and thank them,” Darius explained. Riza remembered they seemed to be working with Ed in the third laboratory. She wondered how they met. It was admittedly a strange crowd. 

“Heinkel is alright? Fuck! I was sure he had been killed when that Pride thing showed up.” The other man exclaimed. “Did you have any luck finding the Elrics? Once Jerso is in one piece again, I know he will want to see Alphonse for himself.” She figured Jerso was the toad chimera, and Heinkel must have been a friend of theirs.

Darius remorsefully replied, “No such luck. They are here but under strict hospital rules or something. Granted, they looked pretty beat up after the last fight. Alphonse is definitely the sensible one, but the kid looked like he could certainly use a few weeks of sleep. And apparently, Edward’s got a propensity for getting injured.” At this, Riza squinted. Darius must have been around Ed for some time to piece that together. Five months was a while back. It was morbid, but she really wanted to know what had happened to the kid. Ed was like the whole team’s annoying little brother after all.

“Yeah and Al could use a sandwich or two... Man, I can’t believe he actually did it. He got his body back- skinny as it is.” Zampano continued a little wistfully, “It really is possible.” Riza felt a smile tug at her mouth. If Ed was the team’s annoying younger brother, Al was the sweet and sensitive little sibling. Alphonse was a good kid.

“I guess so,” replied Darius. “Is that something you are going to be working towards?”

“Hell, yes. You and Heinkel lucked out. But Jerso and I, we don’t want to be like this forever. I have a wife; if I want to go back to her, I need to do it as a human. And probably as a better person than who I was when I left.”

Darius let out a chuckle, “Fair enough. Heinkel thinks we should just skip town, put as much distance between the military and ourselves as possible.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“Wait,” Darius cut in, “you never told me why you were here.”

Zampano paused, his voice going a little quieter, making Hawkeye have to strain to hear. “Well, I was looking for… him.” Hawkeye furrowed her brow, wondering who else he could be looking for in the military hospital.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one.

“Who?”

“The son of a bitch Kimblee. I wanted to make sure that if they were treating him, he didn’t get off free after everything he did for the other side.” The grey chimera’s voice came out in an angry whisper.

“No need to worry about that, Zampano. You can rest easy knowing that Heinkel bite right through his neck.” Darius responded with a morbid tinge of pride clinging to his words. Riza felt her eyes widen. Kimblee? She hadn’t even known he was involved…

“The bastard is dead? Thank God. Then I’m going to get the hell out of here.”

“Same for me. Might come back in a week to try my luck again with the Elric brats. Care to join me for food?” Darius asked, as their footsteps resumed. 

She listened to them leave, filing their names away in the back of her mind. So Kimblee was dead? Well then, if that was true, it seemed she had these chimeras to thank. If she ever ends up seeing their names on a military deserter search list, she would be sure to edit the document. 

* * *

The air was filled with dirt, making his eyes water and sting. Walking hurt. Moving hurt. The midday sun felt eerily cool against his skin as he collapsed to his knees. Al’s empty armored eyes stared back at him. Broken. Shattered.

Al was gone.

Al was gone, and it hurt.

It hurt so much.

He couldn’t breathe. The armor morphed into his dead little brother's broken body. All he could see was Alphonse’s concave face, eyes clouded over gold as they stared blankly past him.

He looked so dejected. 

Ed had failed him. He broke his promise.

As he choked on his breath, awareness came to him. It took him a second to gain a sense of self again. It was a dream, he thought through his panic. Or… or a memory, or both, but either way, it wasn’t true. Al was alive. He was okay, hell, everyone was okay. Everyone was alive, and the freaking father guy exploded. It was okay. He kept those words on a loop in his mind, trying to dispel the anxiety he felt crawling under his skin.

There was a repetitive beeping sound, probably from one of the things they had Al hooked up to. See, he thought, still in the hospital, everything is fine. 

Trying to focus on something other than his unfounded anxiety, Ed realized how off he felt. It was as if all his senses were going through a filter. After a lapse of time, he made the connection: pain meds. They always made him feel a little loopy and disconnected. Why was he on pain meds?

Right, he thought, cursing the concussion and exhaustion that was making everything so damn hard, his shoulder and guts were all messed up. Once he remembered that, he was able to focus enough to feel the throbbing in his side and discomfort in his shoulder.

He also noted that something was sliding through his hair. It wasn’t painful or anything, actually it was rather… nice. Instantly he felt very childish for the thought, but that didn’t stop him from basking in the comforting motion for a few more moments. Eventually, his desire to see Al won out, and he blinked open his eyes.

Unlike the last few times, his vision wasn’t spinning. Even though it wasn’t bright in the room, he could tell it was light out again… maybe midmorning? The curtains were drawn but a few rays of light still managed to trickle through.

“Are you awake, Ed?” Teacher's comforting voice cut through the silence. It was such a dichotomy to her often violent temper.

Edward nodded, his brain throbbing in punishment for the action. “Yeah, I’m ‘wake,” he slurred out, his throat extremely dry. “How’s Al?”

“Ever the one-track mind. Alphonse is fine, he hasn’t stirred since he arrived. They expect him to be out until at least this time tomorrow.” Izumi explained patiently. Ed realized with a flush that she was still running a hand through his hair. The last time anyone did that was when he was four and Mom was trying to make him feel better after being sick.

Teacher was in the way of him seeing Alphonse, but still, it was nice to get a good look at her too. Her forehead was wrapped in bandages, along with a few others on her neck and arms. Otherwise, she looked mostly the same as normal. “Are you okay, Teacher? I thought you got hurt too.”

She scoffed, “Please, I got thrown around a little. I have handled much worse than that. And I wasn’t stupid enough to get impaled or tear my abdomen like you.” There was no malice behind her words, and Ed let out a sigh of relief. Izumi pressed on, “Do you feel alright?”

Edward moved his uninjured shoulder in what was meant to be a shrug. “I’m okay. My mouth is a little dry, though. Is there water?”

“Afraid not, or more, you can’t have any.” She clarified as his eyes landed on the pitcher that was clearly beside her. “One of the doctors came by and said they will be ready for you in a few hours. They need to do surgery to remove the metal from your arm. You can’t drink beforehand.”

Ed did his best to suppress the nerves he felt for that. Despite ending up in the hospital countless times, the only time he had ever had surgery was for his automail and after Baschool. Neither were very good experiences. He wetted his dry lips. “Oh. Okay.”

There was a moment's pause as Teacher looked down on him, her eyes squinting slightly. “Are you worried?” She asked.

“No,” her eyes narrowed, and he knew he couldn’t hide anything from her. “I mean, it's just surgery always sounds so serious and whatnot. I just got my shoulder back; I don’t want some stupid doctor messing it up.” He tried to sound flippant about the whole thing.

The hand was back, stroking his head. “It will be okay. You will have the best doctors working on you, and it won’t hurt so much when you wake up.” She paused, “Well, it could actually hurt more immediately after, but it will be better long term.”

“I know that,” he said defensively, “and I’m not scared. I just don’t want to leave Al again.” She raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t call out his lie.

“It should only take a few hours at most. Then give it another three or four, you will be back here. Alphonse isn’t going anywhere in that short amount of time.”

"How many is a few hours?"

"More than you want it to be. But nothing will change in that time, alright?"

“Are they giving him nutrients? An-and I remember them saying something about kidney failure- is that happening? I know they said they could tell he was dehydrated but-” The words started tumbling out of him, each one quivering with the nerves he felt.

“Edward!” Her stern tone cut off his rant. “Again, Alphonse will be alright. The synopsis of your brother’s health is that his body is lacking in practically every basic need. However, it seems like it has been perfectly preserved with just enough to survive. It might take a while to get there, but we both know Al bounces back fast.”

Ed bit his lip. He wasn’t good at waiting around, but he guessed he could do it for Al. If Alphonse needed days to get better, Edward was more than willing to wait. Hell, he would wait weeks, months, even years if it meant he would get to see Al running up to Granny’s house in Resembool again.

“Can I see him before they come to get me?” He asked, hoping the desperation wasn’t too apparent in his voice.

Izumi looked at him, confused for a second before realizing she was blocking his view of Alphonse. Immediately, she got up and slid back the machine that had blocked his line of sight last night. Al’s pale face nearly blended into the sheets. His long and broken blonde hair was splayed out around his head. Under the thin hospital gown, Ed watched the shallow rise and fall of Al’s chest.

Every breath was a miracle.

“Teacher, can you move me closer, I -I want to…” He struggled to find the words, but Izumi evidently understood the burning need in his voice.

“Just don’t strain your stomach.” 

Carefully she slides his bed closer to Al’s. The imperfect wheels caused a rolling sensation in his stomach that was rather unpleasant. Coming to a clicking stop, Ed propped himself up on his left arm, a maneuver that made Izumi sigh slightly. She didn’t outwardly protest though, so he kept going. The throbbing in his stomach shifted to a pulling, stretching ache. Normally that was a good thing, he thought, keeping the discomfort off his face. If he let off that he was in pain, there was a good chance he would get pulled away from Alphonse and get bombarded with needles. Schooling his expression, he reached out a hand. Gently as he could, he wrapped his long-lost fingers around Al’s tiny, soft ones.

Tears stung at his eyes, which he quickly blinked away. “I’ll be right back Alphonse, okay?” He whispered, scanning Al’s face for any recognition. Al just kept sleeping. “Yeah, okay, ignore me then. Just get some rest while I’m gone.” 

He felt his throat constricting with emotion. Quietly, he cleared his throat. Unfortunately, the motion caused a tensing in his gut that the pain meds did nothing to hide. A tickle manifested in the back of his dry throat, but that went nearly unnoticed since his side had started signaling a hailstorm of pain. That wasn’t good. He should lay back down. Unfortunately, his supporting arm was all but shaking and he didn’t trust it not to give out. 

He glanced over at Teacher, who was standing back to give them space. As he opened his mouth to tell her something was wrong, a harsh cough slipped out. It was accompanied not just by a stabbing pain in his gut but also by another wave of coughing.

The pain was gradually getting worse as he curled in on himself. Izumi was there instantly, trying to soothe the wretched sounds, to no avail. His arm gave out and Izumi caught him around his back, steadying him and rubbing soothing circles down his spine.

Shit, he struggled to suck in a shaky breath before it came right back out as a series of wet coughs. His vision was tunneling as his head started to feel light again. Whatever was coating his lips started to dribble down his chin. That is disgusting, he lamented in his head, he was drooling on himself.

To try and ease his cough, he tried holding his breath. Only then did he realize the metallic taste in his mouth.

Izumi was muttering behind him in a slow tone as he felt his panic mounting. “Shh, you’re alright, you’re alright.”

“Ed? You got it und- Fuck” She cursed as she finally got a clear view of his face. Not able to suppress it anymore, another round of guttural coughs took over.

He heard Izumi call for help, in a panicked voice that sounded so foreign on her. Several sets of footsteps and curses quickly followed. At this point, his vision was just pinpricks of light and flashes of masked faces. A few moments later, something was being pressed over his mouth and instructions were being shouted in his ear on how to breathe.

In all earnestly, he tried to listen but the agony from his abdomen was making his head spin. Suddenly, he wished he wasn’t sitting up because he was sure that if it wasn’t for the several sets of hands, he would have collapsed by now.

His stomach was uncomfortable, and he felt wetness congeal at the back of his throat. Before he had a chance to react, his stomach rolled, and he was vomiting. With a cracked open eye, he saw the basin they had put in front of him was now painted a bright red.

That was enough to make him heave again, forcing whatever else was in his stomach out. As unfortunate as throwing up was, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the pain the lurching motion was causing on the muscles in his side. If he thought it hurt before, he was very wrong.

Things were starting to get foggy. He felt once more, someone stroking the side of his face and the bed getting pushed away from Alphonse.

“- let’s go, we will see how noninvasively we can do this…”

At some point, he had ended up on his back again.

“... If he is bleeding into his stomach, we need to make sure we hang …”

“... kid, can you start counting backward from one hundred for me?”

Ed felt patronized again and tried to retort back, but his words came out in a slur. Before he knew it, he was out.

* * *

Mustang pressed his fingers into his eyes. “No, I agree with you. We have to return their holy land to them. The real question is what kind of repairs we should offer. Would offering aid be intrusive, or would it be dismissive of us not to help? See, these are the sorts of questions I can’t ask. We need a mediator of some sort.”

“You could ask for Major Miles,” Hawkeye replied from her bed. “With his mixed heritage, he has a unique ability to understand the issue from both sides.”

With a nod, Roy let out a chuckle, “Fair enough. I would rather not ask General Armstrong face to face for one of her men… perhaps I will milk my injuries and write up a formal request instead. ”

The nurse that he had forgotten was in the room made a displeased noise. “Please, sir, you really are supposed to be resting. The damage to your hands isn’t something to treat lightly. Not to mention your broken ribs.” 

“Of course, ma’am. I’m taking it as easy as I can with these pressing matters of the state.” He said with a winning smile, hopeful that would get her off his back.

She muttered something under her breath before she resumed flipping through, presumably, Hawkeye’s chart.

In a lull in the conversation, there was a knock on the door. It pulled open, and a male voice wafted in. 

“Hey, Anika, can you cover the post-ops for rooms one fifty-two and one seventy-three? Dr. Noble was called into surgery before she could do it.” Roy tried to place the man's voice and was moderately sure it had the same inflection as one of the nurses who had attended to him earlier.

Hawkeye’s nurse sighed, “She didn’t even have any emergency surgeries! Phillis is the neurologist! I should be passing my work onto her, not the other way around. Just because I am her wife doesn’t mean she can pawn her duties onto me whenever she is being lazy.” Roy had to suppress a chuckle at the hospital politics playing out before him.

“No, that’s not true. Dr. Noble said she was really sorry, but Dr. Jones had to rush the kid into the OR early ’cause of some bad internal bleeding in his stomach.” Roy’s smirk instantly faded. There typically weren’t too many kids in the military hospital. And even less were scheduled to have surgery today.

“Wait, what?” Roy could hear the desperation in his own voice. “You aren’t talking about Elric, are you? Edward Elric?”

When he heard the beat of hesitation hang in the air, he pressed on, “I’m his superior officer, I am privy to this information. Please!”

The new nurse relented, “Yeah. They were going to take him to get the shrapnel in his shoulder removed in a few hours, but when he woke, he ended up vomiting blood. So our pediatric doctor decided they were going to go ahead and seal up the tear in his stomach lining. They were too worried about internal bleeding and blood loss to try and wait for it to heal.” 

The panic must have been evident on his face because the male nurse quickly cut in to reassure him. “But it shouldn’t be too severe of a surgery. They were just trying to avoid it because he already has a decent amount of scar tissue in his abdomen. That can lead to dangerous adhesions in someone so young. But if they called Dr. Noble, our neurologist, in, then it is likely going well enough that he thinks it is viable to remove the shrapnel during the same surgery.”

Roy swallowed his anxiety. “And have you figured out what caused that scaring?”

“No, sir. Mr. Elric hasn’t been awake long enough to ask. Definitely some sort of piercing trauma. It has both an entry and exit wound, though, so it had to be severe. It seemed like it was handled well enough.”

A piercing trauma to the abdomen? Was Fullmetal shot sometime when he was up north? The Brigg’s men said they lost him in a mine collapse at one point, so it had to be after that.

“A penetrating trauma… you are saying Ed got impaled at some point in the last five months? Was that what he was muttering about?” Hawkeye asked, her usually reserved voice holding a hint of incredulity. He felt his eyes widen. She would have had a better visual on the injury than him. And she certainly knew what bullet wounds did and didn’t look like.

“That is probably our guess. We know Major Elric had to have gotten medical help, there is just no way he would have survived otherwise. We just wish we could find the records of it. The more you know, the better.”

Roy pressed his eyes shut and leaned his head against the wall. “Please give us an update as soon as you can on Edward.”

“Right, of course, Sir.” Both the nurse’s footsteps scurried off.

Several long beats of silence built up the tension in the air. 

“Should we resume reintegration planning, Sir?” Hawkeye asked sharply. 

He wanted to say no. But his other option was to sit in darkness and see Ed’s dead body in his mind’s eye. Per usual, Hawkeye had the best handle on the situation.

“Of course, Breda, write up the report asking for the leader of the Ishvalan movement that saved us all to come forward. And, Hawkeye, you have the best connection to Briggs, so you inform Miles of our idea.” 

And thus, they put themselves to work, knowing there wasn’t any better alternative. Even so, Roy’s ear was peeled to the creaking of the door the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, my pen spilled and now Ed is hurt even worse. My bad.


	4. Truths Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days after the promised day, and everyone is still waiting on a chance to sleep, heal, and get some desperately needed answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp I lied, this is five chapters now - don't worry!! The last chapter is coming tomorrow. It was just too long compared to the others so I split it up. It is your guy's fault because you were too nice so I kept adding scenes. <3 Enjoy!!!!

Izumi continued to stroke the long blonde hair behind the child’s ear. The material of her gloves couldn’t be as soft as her hands, but it would have to do for now. She was rushing off to update Sig every few hours, so she hadn’t had time to shower before coming back into the room.

She let out a small sigh, thinking of Sig’s pleading for her to get some rest. Mustang’s men had offered them a room in the military hotel. Sig spent the night there since it was a two minute run from the hospital, and it was better than the overcrowded waiting room. While the boys were asleep, she relented to let him watch them for a few hours while she got checked by doctors, found something editable, and took a hot shower.

All of those pleasant amenities were enough to make her feel functional again. She had rushed back to trade with Sig, knowing sleep would elude her until the doctors were sure none of Al’s muscles had died, and Ed was going to maintain mobility in his arm.

When Ed woke up, she felt the rush of relief, followed by a stanch weariness. Even if he was clearly concussed, he was aware enough to question about Al, so she assumed he was alright. Fear was swirling in his golden eyes at the mention of surgery, another hint that his inhibitions were down. She knew the best way to calm him down and had helped him over to Alphonse. For a moment, everything looked alright. In the back of her mind, she even began to contemplate going to sleep for a few hours while Ed was in surgery.

Then, in an instant, everything turned on its head. A weak cough, suddenly pale features, and then, before she could even call for help, crimson liquid came gushing out as Ed puked up fresh blood. She thought the limp armor on the ground would haunt her dreams, but not even that was as horrific as trying to soothe the kid only to find blood running down his chin.

She wasn’t one to cry from stress. Instead, she got up and fixed the problem, addressing it head-on. And yet it dawned on her, as they rushed Edward out of the room, when it came to her kids, there was so often nothing she could do. It had been over fourteen hours now, and she knew she should sleep, but she had to do something.

The faintest moan pulled her from her thoughts. Averting her gaze from the door, she peered back down at the emaciated form lying in front of her. Al was all sharp edges and some combination of muted grey and gold; It wasn’t right. He was always a soft and lively boy, full of energy and sincerity.

His eyes shifted behind his eyelids, making her wonder if he was too tired to open them or if he was just in the middle of a vivid dream. Either way, she resumed stroking his hair. She felt some of the brittle strands snapping under her gentle touch. Hopefully he would want it cut short again.

“Shh, relax, Al. Just rest, Ed will be back soon. We both know you would rather wake up to him.” She couldn’t make out much of his face past the mask and tube down his nose, but she swore his lips twitched in the remnants of a smile.

After a few moments, his eyes settled, and his breathing evened out a little. Izumi tried to focus on what she could do. Because even if she couldn’t make sure Ed was alright and she couldn’t make Al whole again, she could at least make sure they were taken care of.

When they were littler, Al never shied away from affection, soaking it up like a desert plant in need of water. Ed was significantly more apprehensive. In those first few months of training, he was always leaning away from her comforting hand. The only time Ed let her help was when he got a bad chest cold and was hurting enough to not care that she was the one rubbing his back soothingly. Much more often, he would grin at her from afar as Al got pat on the head. She understood. Ed was too wary of trusting that people actually cared. If he let them in, he risked losing them. At the same time, if Alphonse was loved, then he was happy.

Thus, she knew the best thing she could do right now was sit here with Al and make sure he was alright. Even though she wanted to storm up to the desk in the ICU and order another update, she continued to straighten the sheets over Al’s thin shoulders instead. The doctors promised her Al was doing alright and wouldn’t be coherently awake for the rest of the day, yet she continued to mummer comforting words in his ear. Even if Al didn’t need anything from her, sitting here with him was all she could do for Edward right now.

As the next hours ticked by, Izumi felt her mind wander. She found herself wishing the boys never got into this mess, perhaps even that they never learned alchemy. Knowledge is a double-edged sword. Even if it was alchemy that dragged them out of this mess, it was also alchemy that pulled them into it. It only took one deranged soul who had unlocked alchemy’s secrets to nearly destroy the world as they just saw. And Ed might have saved Alphonse with alchemy, but it was that same science that locked him in that suit of armor to begin with.

She wished she never taught them in the first place.

No. That wasn’t true. The blonde hair and pale skin were so unlike her own, and yet, Izumi saw herself in them. In Ed’s temper and Al’s blunt sincerity, she found herself hoping Ms. Elric wouldn’t be offended at the role she took in the boy’s life. She knew if it was the other way around, she wouldn’t mind.

They lost something just as she had- even before their transmutation. The Elrics were clever boys, and they would have figured out whatever they wanted with or without her. So not teaching them would have just spared her the pain of seeing them make the same mistakes as her… and getting hurt like this.

But she thought about the smiles they shared after the battle was over, the brothers squabbling at her dinner table, or Ed leaning into her touch as he struggled to breathe.

The thin little hand tightened ever so slightly around her own, eliciting a smile from Izumi. They were worth the pain.

Taking a deep breath, she shoved down the worry and brushed the scraggly blonde hair off Al’s face. When the door clicked open a few minutes later to let in an exhausted but wearily smiling doctor, Izumi remembered how to breathe again.

* * *

“Sir?” Came a hesitant voice from the doorway. “Um, I was told to update you on Major Elric’s condition?”

Roy nodded towards the nurse, Hawkeye pausing in reading the report out loud. They had given Mustang’s men sporadic updates over the last few hours when he was asleep, but nothing substantial.

“What do you have to report?” Hawkeye prompted.

“Well, the surgery went well, and he was already starting to wake up when they took him back to the room after a few hours in recovery. Dr. Jones was able to stitch up the tear, and Dr. Noble was able to remove the shrapnel successfully.”

There was a collective sigh of relief in the room. Roy interjected, “So you’re saying that Fullmetal will be alright?”

“We believe so, Major Elric’s doctors will keep a watchful eye on everything. In contrast to before, it will be important that he keeps moving some to avoid adhesions in his abdomen. On someone so young, the internal organs have less fat on them, making injuries like this more likely to result in side effects. However, our pediatrics doctor has already contacted a few of his fellows to get second opinions. We only just found out that we were working on the kid who took out the leader of the uprising.” The nurse sounded mildly flustered, but Roy figured they were probably offering everyone a relieved smile.

The whole team seemed to relax at the news. Fuery let out a sigh, “Thank goodness, we were really starting to get worried.” Breda patted someone, probably Falman, on the shoulder and made an excuse to go call Havoc to keep him informed. Hawkeye, however, remained silent.

“Any update on how he got injured? What exactly caused him to get impaled in the first place?” She asked in a clipped tone that Roy knew was a cover for concern.

“Um,” Once again, there was hesitation, “well, we tried to ask that when he was semi-coherent after the surgery, but we couldn’t exactly get a clear answer. Something about a mine and some chimeras?”

Roy heard Hawkeye stiffen, tapping her pen for good measure.

“You know,” Falman said carefully, “he could have been talking about the mine collapse in Baschool.”

Breda’s footsteps paused and he cursed, “Oh shit, I should have thought of that.”

Mustang jerked his head over to Falman, “What?”

Falman quickly cut in, “Well, I wasn’t there, but I heard about it from Major Miles. Kimblee came up north looking for Scar, and he got the Elric brothers involved. That was when we lost track of them up north, along with their automail engineer friend. Miles had presumed him dead for a while… but I mean, we all know Edward. He wouldn’t die so casually.”

A silence fell between the group as Roy felt his blood boil. He always hated Kimblee, but if the bastard had almost taken out Fullmetal, then he had something else coming.

In as controlled a tone as he could muster, Roy bit out, “Do we know where Kimblee is now?”

“Dead, Sir.” Hawkeye pronounced conclusively, much to the shock of everyone else.

Roy’s mouth hung open, “Wait, what? When? How?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Sir. But from my understanding, it didn’t sound pleasant.”

Roy wanted to order her to explain how she knew about this when he wasn’t even sure of Kimblee’s involvement in the homunculus’ plan until now. But if Hawkeye deemed this an unsafe place to discuss everything, there was probably a good reason.

His mind flashed to the Ishvalan war and the grin on the man’s face. Roy drew his mouth into a thin line and gave a curt nod towards his right hand.

“Good.”

* * *

He would probably kill someone right now for water, and that was saying something since he made it this far without murder.

It was late. Edward could tell that much before he even opened his eyes from the silence around he. It was calming in a strange way and a pleasant change of pace to the past few days. He was sitting up, which he explicitly recalled he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Vaguely, he remembered someone talking to him. They were trying to tell him something about internal bleeding or something, but their words were all garbled together. It was like it was a dream; he wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t a dream.

Opening his eyes, he surveyed his surroundings. Outside of the ill-lit room, he couldn’t see too much. There was a bed, still filled with his baby brother, over to his right. The ringing in his ears was gone now, and he could hear the steady sounds of Al breathing. It was amazingly comforting. His eyes fell on the empty chair perched between the two beds. Shrugging off the mild disappointment, he looked down at himself.

Most of his torso was covered in bandages. His right arm was in a sling now with his whole upper arm tightly wrapped. Before, the dressing had been loose and painful, but the sharp angles of the metal no longer protruded from his skin. The hole in his other arm was also bandaged, with an IV sticking out from his hand as well. He did his best not to overthink the needle sticking into his skin.

His bed was propping him up about forty-five degrees. Someone had taken out his braid; he wanted to reach up and brush it out of his face, but he realized he didn’t have any hand left to do that. How was it that once he had both arms back, he was somehow even more shorthanded?

He cringed at that word, tensing when he realized he invertedly called himself short again. His side regretted the motion, throbbing faintly. Right, that was why he wasn’t supposed to drink before… but they had to be finished now, surely. His gaze fell on the water pitcher on the nightstand. Regardless of the consequences, Ed needed water. Now came the puzzle for how to get it.

It was on his right side, but the feeble attempt to move his right arm was met with a sting as he pulled on the stitches. That was not going to work. Instead, Edward tested how far he could reach with his left hand without knocking over the IV. It would be close. And he would have to roll onto his side to reach the table. He knew he probably shouldn’t, but it really was dire.

As he tried to shift, sharp pain swelled in his stomach, begging him to stop, but the rawness of his throat egged him on.

“What are you doing, Ed?” Came a voice from the doorway when he was about halfway onto his side. Izumi’s voice was a familiar mix of concern and exasperation.

As she rushed over, he gave up the effort to some relief. Instead, he tried to answer her.

“ ’ater” He croaked out; his voice was unrecognizable. It sounded old and decrepit, startling him.

“Idiot, just ask.” She reached past the container to a glass with ice cubes. “These will be easier on your stomach.” He greedily accepted them.

After a few ice cubes had melted in his mouth, Teacher asked how he was feeling. Thinking it over, he was surprised at how much better he felt. Overall, he was a little more well-rested and slightly less woozy. His shoulder and stomach still hurt, but not like before.

“Better.” He answered, honestly.

She smiled at him, looking a little weary. Ed could make out a few age lines on her face that he hadn’t noticed before. It made him feel immensely guilty.

“You shouldn’t have scared me like that.” She snapped at him.

“Sorry.” He replied, not really knowing what to say.

Shaking her head, “I’m the one who vomits up blood, not you.”

He understood her meaning and offered her a grimace at that.

“What happened?” She asked pointedly, crossing her arms.

His smile faded into confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“That,” She pointed down at his side. The older scar could be seen poking out past the bandages. “Everyone has been trying to piece together what happened. Tell me before you pass out again.”

He flushed slightly, preferring to forget the whole thing ever happened. His hesitation earned him a glare from Izumi.

Edward relented. Recounting the whole story in as little detail as possible still took a few minutes. The fight with the chimeras, waking up with a rod sticking out of his gut, pleading with those same men to help save his life, and getting taken to a doctor in North City. He left out the part about healing himself. It wasn’t something he wanted to concern anyone else with. Izumi’s face remained impressively stoic. Once he was done, she reached out and pulled him into her arms gently.

“I’m sorry you were alone.” And Ed had to blame the cold air for making his eyes water again. Gosh, he had to get a grip. Despite himself, he leaned his head into her shoulder.

* * *

Sunrise had brought with it some desperate pleading. The doctors had successfully sewed up the tear in Ed’s stomach, but now they wanted to make sure he didn’t pull any of his stitches. His orders were to stay in bed unless he had assistance from doctors, but that didn’t stop Edward from trying.

Eventually, he was left alone in the room when Izumi stepped out to speak with Sig. It was his chance to make his move. First, it took the better part of a minute to work the IV pole around his bed. Throwing off the thin sheets, he swung his legs over. The floor chilled his real leg as he cautiously put weight on them. He hobbled over to Al’s bed, only a little unsteady. Lowering himself back into the chair sounded painful, and yet staying standing was exhausting. He decided to lean against Al’s bed and tried not to fall.

That was how Izumi found him five minutes later. After scolding him, she frowned, realizing her words were falling on deaf ears. Ed was more than relieved when she brought in a wheelchair for him.

“If you aren’t going to rest anyways, at least we can compromise.” She told him as she helped him ease into the chair. Once again, he was immeasurably grateful Teacher was here.

She understood him and did a much better job sweet-talking the staff into giving him these privileges. The doctors might know what was wrong with his body, but Izumi understood what he needed to get better. And there was nothing that released his anxiety the way sitting and watching Al sleep did.

Looking at his little brother now, Ed was almost afraid to touch him. His skin was a light grey, all dry and cracked. The golden hair, so similar to his own, was slightly greasy and brittle. Tubes and wires engulfed his form, most uncomfortable was the one going down his nose. The feeding tube was weird that way, and Ed hoped it wouldn’t last long; Afterall, Al was desperate to eat real food again. 

Ed was content to watch Al sleep for the next long while.

A twitch in Alphonse’s face drew Ed’s attention. Those huge, golden, joyful eyes slowly blinked open. Alphonse’s eyebrows were pressed together in a look of confusion. Ed hadn’t seen that look in years. It had spilled his mind how expressive Al really was.

Al’s eyes steadied on him, and Ed let a grin spread across his face.

“Hey Alphonse, good morning. You slept in pretty late. Working on your beauty sleep, Little Brother?” Ed asked with a smirk, Al’s eyes tracking him so much more than the soul fire one's ever could.

The confusion on Al’s face only deepened. The kid opened his mouth to ask something, but only a single, non-hollow, syllable got out before he froze, his eyes going wide. His expression said so much. Hope, joy, and desperation flashed across his face all at once.

Carefully, Edward grabbed Al’s hand. The IV sticking in Ed’s wrist couldn’t matter less. Al let out a little gasp at the physical contact. When Ed turned to refocus his gaze on Al, he immediately panicked when he saw the tears streaming down Al’s face.

“Al! What is wrong?” He floundered, “Should I get a nurse? Or a doctor? Did I hurt you?” Ed made to pull his hand away.

A small tug stopped him, though, his brother’s weak hand gripping his back into place. With another pleading look at Al’s face, Ed realized what he missed the first time. Despite the tears, Alphonse was smiling.

“Brother.” Al sobbed, crinkling his eyes as he grinned in the same way mom had. “I’m okay. I… it’s just a lot.”

Relief flooded Ed, he had been so concerned something was wrong. “Yeah, sure. You don’t have to cry though, everyone is fine.”

His words failed to stop the trail of tears. Alphonse looked him over, his soft smile faltering.

“Are you alright, Al?” Ed was taken aback by the worry etched into Al’s face. He didn’t believe anyone could look so heartfelt.

“Ed…”

“It’s nothing, Al, don’t worry about it. I'm fine. Really, you should see yourself.” Ed tried to deflect, unable to stop the smile from splitting across his face.

Al let out a dramatic sigh, “Come on Brother! Don’t do this again! I hate it when you pretend to be tough.”

One look at Al’s face caught the retort in Ed’s throat. So much emotion, pain, and youth were present in his face. Even his voice sounded more human again. A deep swell of emotion consumed Edward at the sight of it.

Ed dropped his head, letting his bangs hide his face. “No Alphonse, I don’t think you get it. I haven’t ever felt better.”

If Al felt the water drop into his hand, he didn’t say anything.

“Well, I haven’t ever felt worse, to be honest.” Ed jerked his head up, wide eyes landing on the little smirk on Al’s face.

Not processing the tone, Ed starts spitting out questions, desperately trying to figure out something he could do. Alphonse didn’t answer any of his queries. He did, however, squeeze Ed’s hand again after a moment. Edward paused as Al’s delicate voice came out again.

“Ed, you don’t get it. _I feel_.” And the grin on Al’s face grew more extensive as the tears fell around it.

Staring at Al for a moment, Ed wiped the wet splotch off his face. Then, he turned to his little brother and shared in his smile for the first time in four years.

* * *

Riza straightened the blank form on her lap as the nurse pushed her to the room. She was sure she could walk just fine, but hospital policy dictated certain procedures. Knowing who she was dealing with, she figured leading by example was her best shot.

With a clipped smile, she thanked the Xinese man as he pulled open the door and allowed her to wheel herself in the rest of the way. Riza surveyed the scene. Ed was propped up by the elevated bed. He had definitely looked better. His face was flushed, and she could make out the perspiration on his forehead from here. More covered in bandages than not, Riza was surprised to see him up. A tall and lean woman was pulling his damp hair out of his face and into a bun.

Just past the two of them, Alphonse was resting. Contrary to anyone else she had seen in the hospital, he was looking better. There was a touch of color in his cheeks, and his lips naturally curled up in a smile. His free hand was curled up under his head. Even attached to all the tubes and wires, he looked peaceful. The team was going to lose their shit over this kid. Not only does he have a heart of gold, but now he has the face of an angel. He would break hearts one day.

There was an array of reactions to her arrival. Ed’s face lit up and offered her a weary smile, the woman glared at her, and Al just kept sleeping. Before she even had a chance to say anything, the woman stalked over, blocking her entrance and crossing her arms.

“Who are you?” Her tone was harsh, but Riza recognized the protective undertone to it.

“First Lieutenant R-”

The dark-haired woman huffed, cutting her off, “Not your rank, I don’t give a damn about that. I want to know who you are.”

“Teacher, no wait it’s fine-” Ed tried to protest but was cut off by a glare and sunk back down against the bed.

Holding out a hand, Hawkeye smiled at the woman. “Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang’s right-hand man and a good friend of the Elrics.”

Two seconds of staring passed before the woman accepted her handshake. Ed let out a sigh of relief off to the side.

“Izumi Curtis, what do you want? The doctors just had Ed get up again and try walking, so he isn’t up for -“

“Teacher…”

“-chatting at the moment. You can come back later. I’m sure Alphonse would love to see you too.” Izumi said strictly, ignoring Ed’s attempt to cut her off. Hawkeye was impressed with her decorum already.

“Well, I just needed to ask Ed a few questions quickly so I can fill out these reports for the military. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes, and it’s urgent.” Riza pressed, hoping she didn’t sound too detached.

Ed interjected, “Teacher, it’s fine, really. This is a good chance for you to freshen up too. You can trade-off with Sig.”

Izumi sharply turned and made eye contact with Ed. It was almost as if a silent conversation went on between the two of them in a few instances. Shutting her eyes, Izumi let out a sigh, “Alright, fine. No dying while I am gone.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The boy’s teacher pushed past her as she went for the door.

“Mrs. Curtis?” Hawkeye called to the woman who had her hand on the doorknob.

“Yes?” Izumi asked, not turning around.

“Thank you for looking after Colonel Mustang for me.”

Izumi regarded her for a second before the hint of a smile flashed across her face. “I understand what it is like to have a fine man worth protecting. You’re welcome.”  
Before a slightly flushed Hawkeye could reply, the woman walked off. Ed snickered for a second before Riza silenced him with her own glare.

“Um, how are you, Lieutenant?”

Riza offered a mild shrug, “Could be better, but that is why I came. You are alright to talk, yes?” Slowly she moved from the wheelchair into the empty seat. Now that she was closer, she was able to get a better look at both of them. Al’s skin still had that subtle grey tinge, and she was disturbed by the sharp jut of his collar bone. Ed looked truly exhausted and had a mild crinkle of pain in his eyes.

“Yeah, of course- I can go over whatever if it’s important.” With a chuckle, he continued, “Can’t say I know what cover story you are going with but… you can just edit my statement to match whatever Colonel Bastard is saying. I have about an hour until the shitty doctors come back and force me to move around again. Erm, if you want Al’s story, he was awake a few hours ago, but I doubt you will be able to catch him conscious long enough to recount the day. Honestly, I haven’t even gotten the full version from him yet.” Edward shifted and flinched in pain, pressing a hand against his stomach.

A little guilt pulled on her for pressing him at a time like this, but it really was necessary. None of the stories she had were adding up, and she was sick of dealing with information secondhand.

Hawkeye clicked her pen and then schooled her expression. “I need you to tell me how you got injured.”  
Ed gave her a look before rambling.

“Erm, well you were there, Lieutenant, one of the homunculus’ blast waves-” Riza looked up from her blank report and raised an eyebrow. Promptly, Ed fell silent, letting out a sigh. “Yeah, I figured you weren’t talking about that.”

Ed leaned his head back against the bed, eyes closed as he chewed his lip. Riza heard the faintest of shifting sheets on her other side.

“Why is that important?” Ed asked, his reluctance clear.

“Because it isn’t on any medical records and if it happened while you were assisting the military-”

“I already told my teacher, you can ask her.”

Riza leaned forward, catching the boy’s eyes for the first time. “Edward. We have been getting the runaround and random scraps of information for a few days now. The Colonel has already gotten an assessment of how severe an injury it was, but we need the story. The real one, from the source.” Her stern expression faded into an understanding grimace. “Just work with us so we can set something up on the official record.”

A beat.

“I don’t want to worry Al about it right now. Okay?”

“Have we ever failed to keep your secrets before Ed?” He quirked his lips at this and let out a resigned sigh.

He turned his head to look away from her, and Riza knew he wanted space to figure out what to say. She shifted to sit straight in her own chair, training her eyes on the document.

“I… It was my own fault.” She furrowed her brow and closed her eyes, knowing that wasn’t true. A theory she had reared its ugly head because she knew a certain person who could convince someone of something like that.

Hawkeye kept her mouth shut, knowing from personal experience it wouldn’t help to contradict him now.

“I was overconfident and didn’t take stock of my surroundings, and I gave him an opening-”

Anger boiled under her skin, “Are you talking about Kimblee?”

Ed sputtered, startled, “What? How did you know?”

“He was up north about five months ago, Major Miles mentioned an attack on him falling through. It made sense. And, more importantly, I haven’t forgotten how well he could plant despair and doubt.” Riza left out overhearing the chimeras, figuring that was a little too stalkerish.

The kid stared through her with a shielded expression. “He really was a piece of work.”

“Yes, he was an intelligent, self-righteous, piece of shit.” She stated plainly, glad to see Ed crack a smile at her words.

“He wasn’t wrong, though.”

“That is the worst part, isn’t it.” She knew his words rattled her to her very soul. Not because of their cruelty, but because of the seed of truth in them.

Ed shook his head and muttered, “There really is a price to mercy.”

Not entirely sure what he was referring to, she carefully nodded. “Perhaps, yes. But it is probably a price worth paying.” She had forsaken mercy enough to know the price it took on the soul. Even if the price was a grievous wound, it was worth it if it meant keeping that burden off Ed’s heart.

“Time will tell, I guess.”

This time she was even more baffled and tilted her head to the side.

“Nevermind.”

Arduously, the kid went through everything that happened in Baschool. She noticed he left out a significant amount of details regarding what he actually remembered during the mine, but she didn’t press. He was telling her more than she expected.

As they wrapped up, she jotted down the details of the specific things she needed to look into.

“Do you remember the doctors’ names?”

Ed rattled them off. “They were competent, greedy assholes. They knew what they were doing, but still, it sucked.” He paused before shrugging. “I don’t know, they probably weren’t that bad. I think I was just really lonely.”

Riza reached forward and gave the kid’s hand a squeeze. “You aren’t alone here.”

The blonde looked up at her with a genuine smile. “I know.”

When Sig Curtis arrived a few moments later, Riza excused herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Al facing the window, eyes wide, and the faintest tracks of water running down his cheeks. He caught her eyes, and she gave him a small, understanding smile.

Riza left without saying anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed's two moms met and it was great. :P


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the story ends, life begins again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much. I don't think you all understand how much I appreciate all of you and all the comments and likes you have left on this story. Writing this has been my absolute pleasure and you all have given me so much more confidence in my writing. I will be working on finding inspiration again for another story once I have a little more time on my plate.  
> I hope you enjoy this ending chapter, I love happy endings. We might have had a lot of angst along the way, but we will get there.  
> Thank you Elks, your editing was life-saving and thank you for putting up with my concerns and motivating me to actually post this!

The first thing he wanted to see was those auburn eyes. Everything was blurry but stunningly beautiful. There wasn’t time for all that though, this country needed someone to rebuild it from the ground up; If he let someone else step up to do it, they might not fix it first. Still, he had another request before any of his other obligations came up.

Through only a little sweet-talking, mention of his rank, and noting his role in the revolution, Roy was able to talk the nurse out of escorting him in a wheelchair. So, just a few hours later, he found himself outside the Elric’s room. Carefully pulling open the door, he was greeted by the sight of an empty bed.

He found the missing patient instantly, a figure slumped over in a wheelchair, head pressed against the other bed. Another person, a tall woman with black box braids and her arms folded across her chest, stood in the corner. She leaned to see who it was before rushing over.

“Try to be quiet, Ed only just fell asleep, and he has been up for nearly twenty hours now.” Before he could respond, she sharply drew in a breath, “Your eyes…”  
Roy felt something pull at the back of his neck. He was worried people might react that way.

“I was offered a way to fix it, and I accepted. I know that-” But the woman cut him off.

“You don’t need to justify yourself to me, I was just shocked.” She furrowed her brow at him, a small smile tugging on her mouth, “So you got your eyes back, and you came to check on the boys?”

Mustang smirked himself, “No need to sound so surprised. I heard you don’t love us military types, but I do try to look after my own.” He paused, not knowing how to ask her to move out of the way so he could see Alphonse for himself. With some restraint, he instead asked, “How are they?”

“Ed is doing better. He tore one of the stitches in his side two days ago, but other than that, he hasn’t had any complications with his shoulder or side. They think he will probably regain full movement in his arm, or at least close enough.” Izumi stood aside, allowing him to see into the room.

Before Roy could decide how to respond, his eyes landed on the occupant of the bed. Past Edward, who’s hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and was slouching his head onto a boney little hand, was Alphonse Elric, all flesh and blood.

He didn’t really know what to expect when it came to the boy, assuming he would just look like a doppelgänger of Fullmetal. This skinny kid, messy dark blond hair, pale skin with flushed cheeks, and soft facial features, somehow looked both nothing like Edward while also being his spitting image.

More so, Roy saw this face behind that metal mask as Al spoke, from the brave words to the most earnest compliments. He had assumed there would be a disconnect between the suit of armor and this kid, but there wasn’t. On the same note, though, for the first time, it clicked in Roy’s mind how young Al was. Alphonse always acted older, even if he was a little naïve. If Mustang ever felt guilty about getting Ed involved in the military’s agenda, he suddenly felt much worse for Al getting dragged into it.

Izumi seemed to have caught on to his pressing stare. Giving him a moment, she eventually continued.

“Al might be here a little while longer. Two, maybe even three months. They still have him on feeding tubes, after all, and it will take him a while to build up his atrophied muscles. But they are pretty optimistic about his long term outcome. He has already woken up several times, mostly just to cry and talk to Ed, but they think he should be able to sit up tomorrow and start a liquid diet.”

As she listed all these things off, Roy felt his heart clench. He had hoped these boys would be out of the woods, finally allowed to have the childhoods they never had. It seemed like they would still be suffering for a little while longer.

Roy felt a hand on his shoulder, the older woman smiling at him, “Mind staying with them for a moment while I go find my husband?” After a second of hesitation, Roy nodded, and Izumi left, leaving him alone with the two sleeping boys. He hoped he wasn’t supposed to know what to do if they needed something.

As Mustang closed the door behind him as quietly as possible, he caught a slight shift in Ed’s shoulders. By the time he made it halfway across the room, Fullmetal had lifted his head to glance around.

“Mustang?” Ed enquired a little blearily. He let out a harsh cough after the words, wincing his face in pain.

Roy grabbed and filled the glass from the table, handing it to the kid. “Hey, Fullmetal. You alright?”

Halfway through reaching for the glass, Ed’s mouth fell open, “Wait! You can see?” The exclamation was enough to draw a moan from the figure prone on the bed.

Dull golden eyes opened a sliver, eventually landing on him. “Colonel Mustang?” Al slurred out, Ed briefly paused his intense stare at Mustang to make sure Alphonse was alight.

Mustang fidgeted ever so slightly. He knew these two would be the most irreverently opposed to his choice. “Look, I was offered a solution, and I intend to spend my life repaying the cost. It was unlikely the military would ever give me fieldwork again. Technically, it would have been only proper to relieve me from service. I haven’t paid back the Ishvalan people yet; I probably never will, but perhaps I can begin to pay that debt.” His justification felt hollow to his own ears.

Edward’s face was pulled in a straight line, but the understanding was clearly evident in his eyes. It certainly wasn’t the outburst he was excepting. Al let out a little gasp, catching on to what he must have used to get his eyes back.

A moment of intense silence passed when Al looked up at him and gave him a sad smile. “I know Doctor Marco was using the stone to heal people in his town for a long time. And those were just people of Amestris. Those people are trapped in that stone. I... I can't speak for them but I bet they would rather help heal someone who wants to restore their land rather than continue to be used in a war or to bring someone immortality.” Al said this all slowly, a little out of breath, but sincerity rang in his words. Roy didn’t know what to say. This kid was too wise and understanding for his age.

Ed shrugged at him. “Look, I wouldn’t do it, but…” he looked down at Al’s skinny hand in his. “It wasn’t fair what happened to you. It wasn’t your mistake. So, you made a choice, if it is one you can live with, okay.” There was no trembling angry in his voice but rather a calm certainty to it. When had these two grown up so much?

“I…” Mustang struggled to find the words, “I appreciate both of those sentiments. Even if I never become Fuhrer, I will be making sure to repair the East, especially Ishval, for as long as I have the power.”

“Oh great. Once we are finally going to be able to get out of Central, you are just going to follow us back east?” Ed’s annoyance easily broke the tension. Al’s soft chuckle was enough to release the rigidity of Roy’s stance.

“So, I take it you will both be heading back to Resembool once you are released?” Mustang asked.

“Yup, we want to get out of here as soon as we can. When can I resign?” Ed questioned, posing it as more of a challenge.

“Actually, the rumors I hear are that they are planning to give you a promotion. A major increase in funding and a nice office in Central. But don’t worry, I won’t let it happen.” Roy smirked at Ed’s eye roll.

“You bastard, you don’t want me outranking you, isn’t that it?” Edward ignored Al’s plea for him to not insult the Colonel.

“Sure, though I doubt that would be the case, I’m being promoted to Brigadier General. Apparently, there are now a lot of vacancies in the senior staff.”

“Congratulations!” Alphonse exclaimed.

“Bet that was your only real motive for helping us out all this time, wasn’t it?” Ed countered snarkily.

Roy couldn’t help the smirk come across his face. He knew there was no real malice behind the words. “Clearly. Seems you’ve got me all figured out, Fullmetal.”

“Nope, not Fullmetal anymore.” And Mustang didn’t miss the guilty look on Alphonse’s face. “Maybe just try Edward or Ed.”

Mustang bit back the guilt he felt. It was harsh that Edward paid so dearly for such a mistake. He was only eleven when he made it, and yet he had lost so much. Roy, on the other hand, had just found a way to avoid any consequences. He knew the military would miss the clever ingenuity that Fullmetal had with alchemy.

“I’ll make sure you get an honorable discharge, Edward.” He said, hoping Ed could understand the remorse he felt for the kid. Ed gave him a lopsided smile and a nod.

“Thank you, Colonel… or I mean, Brigadier General.” Al said in a sweet voice. The lack of metal ringing struck Roy again.

“Of course, Al. It is the least I can do.”

Al shook his head, his eyes watering up slightly. Roy didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that. “Sure, thank you for that too, but I was trying to say thank you… for everything you have done for us. If it wasn’t for you,” Al glanced over at Ed, “Ed wouldn’t have ever gotten all the information you gave him, and we would never have been able to save everyone. And we definitely wouldn’t have been able to get my body back. I don’t know how we can ever repay you for all the kindness that you have shown us.”

Roy took a careful step forward and placed a hand on Al’s thin shoulder. “Trust me, kid, there is no need for that. I’m just glad you are both alright.”

Al gave him a shy, winning smile that was all dimples and kind eyes.

For the first time in years, Roy was sure he had done the right thing that day in Resembool. Two sets of shining gold eyes had been restored. Now they were both full of hope and life.

* * *

Al sighed.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go today.”

“Brother…”

“I bet they will have another train leaving in a week.”

“Brother.”

“The train really isn’t very comfortable, it probably won’t be good for you. Did we even make sure that it was safe for you to go on a train? I don’t think we did…”

“Ed!” Alphonse all but shouted. Edward finally paused in his pacing, glancing over at Al.

Al gave Ed an imploring look. Here he was, fully dressed, sitting up on the edge of his hospital bed, just waiting for the nurse to bring a wheelchair for him, and Ed was trying to find a reason for them to stay. Of course, Al didn’t miss the panicked look in Ed’s eyes.

“Brother, they said a train ride would be fine. And Winry will harp on me more than any of the doctors here do, and you know it.”

Ed sputtered, trying to scrounge up another good excuse for why they weren’t ready to go back yet.

Al cut in before he had a chance, “And besides, Lieutenant Havoc is bringing a car to drive to the train station. It would just be rude to make him drive all the way here for nothing.”

Rolling his shoulders, Ed sighed, “Sure, but maybe we should delay another day or two, make sure you don’t get sick again. Fall is coming soon. Everyone knows that farms are rampant with germs, and Resembool is basically just one big farm.”

Exasperated, Al reached over and lobbed his pillow over at Ed, who let it bounce off him with a glare, “We have already been through this twice! The doctors are all in agreement that I am perfectly fine to go home-”

“Perfectly fine? They said you still have a year of recovery, not to mention how shit your immune system is-” Ed began rambling.

Al pressed on “- since we will be living with two doctors specially trained in physical therapy.” Pausing, he leaned forward, beseeching his brother, “Ed, I’m okay. Really, it is over, and we can finally go home.”

Hesitation came off Ed in waves, but eventually, muttering under his breath, he slumped down in the chair beside him, resigned. Al grinned.

“Okay fine, I just…” Ed dropped his head into his hands, digging his fingers into his hair. The smile vanished from Al’s face.

“Brother?”

“Sorry, Al, I’m just so convinced something else is going to go wrong.”

A voice whispered in the back of his mind that this was his chance to bring it up. Al swallowed and glanced over at his brother.

“Me too.”

Ed jerked his head up at the honest confession. “Really? What do you mean?”

Al brought one of his skinny legs up to his chest. The thick jacket he was always wearing these days did little to cut through the cold his body was failing to compensate for. Leaning his head against his leg, he stared over at Ed, chewing his lip.

“I’m always worried something is going to happen to you too.”

“Oh, that’s just stupid,” Ed chuckled, “I’m always fine.”

“That is not true, Brother, and I wish you would stop coddling me like that.” Al snapped.

Silence filled the air as Ed was clearly caught off guard.

Carefully, Ed mumbled, “Al… I don’t mean to. I’m just not used to you having a body and needing normal things. I really am just trying to make sure you are okay.”

Al huffed, straightening, “I’m not talking about that! I can deal with that, I don’t even don’t mind. But not telling me stuff? Keeping me in the dark? That is not okay!”

“W...What are you talking about?”

Water began welling up Al’s eyes against his will. Goodness, he was crying all the time these days. Typically Ed had a visceral reaction to it, instantly reaching forward, frantically trying to find some way to remedy the tears streaking down his face. His brother tried to hold back this time, though, biting his lip and watching him with pleading eyes.

Whatever, Al thought, as he failed to keep the tears at bay, he had been sitting on this for two months.

“You won’t tell me how you got hurt.” Al said despondently, trailing off long enough for Ed to cut in.

“What are you on about? Promised Day was a crapshoot, everything was happening at once and -”

“Oh come on! See!” The frustration was seeping into his words, enough to throw Ed off guard. Al rarely ever snapped like this. He had to be the calm and composed one next to Ed, but he needed to prove his point right now.

“I know you didn’t get stabbed in the side during Promised Day.” The accusation caused his brother to clam up, and Al felt a little twinge of guilt, bringing it up. Still, it was too late to turn back now.

“That happened before when we were up North. I-it happened in Baschool, didn’t it?”

Silence once again lingered between the two for a few more moments. Al trained his eyes on the pristinely folded sheets under him and his still too bony fist, clenching his the loose material of his pants.

“How did you know?”

Al gave him a pressing look. “When else would it have happened?”

Ed shrugged, still perched on the edge of the seat.

“And…” Al guiltily ran a hand over his face to dry the tear tracks, “I may have overheard you talking to L-Captain Hawkeye about it a while back.”

His brother stared at him, “This has been bothering you since then? Why? So I got hurt, I’m fine now. Why does it matter?”

Letting out another huff, Al rounded on Ed, “Because you don’t tell me things. And I am not dumb.”

“I know you aren’t.” Ed quickly countered, looking confused.

“Then tell me what you skipped over when you told the Captain what happened.” Al tried to sound forceful, but it came out more like begging.

A dark flash came across Ed’s face. “Al…”

“I was in Baschool too,” Al continued, “and I saw how deserted the place was. There wasn’t a single military base, so there sure as hell wasn’t a doctor. So how did you make it from the mines all the way to North City without a doctor and a piece of metal lodged in your gut?” The quiver was back in his voice, and Ed was pointedly not making eye contact.

“I did something dumb, okay?”

Al began to feel queasy at that tone, “What?”

Ed was looking anywhere but him. “I used alchemy to seal up the injury.”

Processing that took a moment. Al felt his mind trying to interpret what that even meant. Healing wounds took energy, and how would he even be able to do that?

It clicked.

Ed mentioned something about the cost of mercy.

“Wait,” his mouth felt dry, “did you… did you use your own soul or something?”

Ed dropped his gaze down at his hands.

Al was hyperventilating. “Wait, wait, no. How does that work? Are you okay? Are… are you going to die?” His breathing was coming in short little rasps now as hot streams of tears ran down his face.

Jumping to his feet, Ed ran over, dropping down next to him on the bed. “Hey, hey, no, I’m okay. I really didn’t do much, so I don’t think I used a significant amount. The doctors in North City said my guts were already starting to fall apart by the time I got there. And think of how powerful those homunculi were when powered by a few hundred souls. Doing a tiny little patch job like that probably didn’t use much at all. And I feel fine. Really, Al, I’m okay. Just- just try and calm down.”

Unable to stop himself, Al flung his arms around Ed and buried his head in his shoulder. He doubted it was comfortable, his bony elbows digging into Ed’s back, and his grip wasn’t even tight. Yet, his brother returned the hug, still trying to soothe the hiccuping sounds Al was making.

When Al got a hold of himself, he squeezed a little harder despite the protest in his non-existent muscles. He muttered, “I wish I had been there with you.”

He expected Ed to protest, normally wanting to keep him at an arm’s length when he was in pain. Ed sniffed as he pulled back, but before Al saw his face, Ed already swiped a hand over it. Ed gave him a sad smile and surprised him by saying, “Yeah, I wish you had been there too. I missed you a lot.”

“Thank you for finally being honest.”

Ed gave him a crooked grin, “Yeah, honestly, it feels a little better having told someone.”

“So, will you tell me things in the future?” Al prodded, a little cheekily.

Ed rolled his eyes, “Yeah, fine.”

“No more hiding feelings or withholding facts. Let’s just say no more secrets, period.” Al continued as one of the nurses finally arrived with a wheelchair at the door.

“No more secrets? Does that mean I have to tell you about the surprise at the train station?”

“You mean the military send off we are getting? Apparently, almost half the city is going to be there. I heard Havoc mention it last week. People just assume I’m asleep all the time.” Al grinned as he climbed into the chair.

“That is because you normally are, you lazy butt.”

“Hey! I’m just trying to get my strength back so we can go visit Teacher in a few months. She is going to destroy you if you don’t start doing those physical therapy exercises the doctors gave you.” Al countered.

Ed waved him off, “They don’t know what I need. That is why we need to go back and see Winry, she knows how to get us back into fighting shape.”

Al grinned, “Yeah, I’m sure that is the only reason you want to see her.” He drew out his words in exaggeration and laughed as Ed frantically began denying him while turning a dark shade of red.

Before they knew it, they were breathing the semi-fresh air of Central City. Havoc was waving them over from where he stood by the car. Al was able to start hobbling over with a little aid from Ed, and the two of them began the not-so-long journey home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope I added something positive to your day! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment or a like!! Stay safe everyone!


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